Early In the Day

It's very early in the day, only three am and yet it's already (or still) too hot to see a focused image in the open windows. Too hot to sleep. I don't want to be on this strange schedule again. I fall asleep just as the first touches of light appear on the horizon, licking the tops of the trees. Trees always look very gray in the early mornings, very uneventful. This sensation only serves as a physical reminder of what the past hours have been, lying in bed and trying to fall asleep.

My life has not turned into anything better than reading crappy novels and watching awful shows. Once in a while, I walk around the fence and sometimes I dare to hope. But both moments occur so sparingly that I don't really think about them nor do I count them as something substantial to remember. Days come in and days go out and time still feels like it's abundant and yet missing. I don't think I'm going to figure out much this summer or learn much for that matter.

Maybe once a week, I have a realization of sort. A thought. Something I don't need to be completely ashamed of. One of these thoughts has actually been the question of how are people able to think? The act of just thinking, sitting, meditating, doing whatever it takes to think seems very alienated from me (or at least from my current state). Even at school I struggled with the idea of thought. I couldn't just sit down like everyone else and think about the thoughts and ideas in my essay. I couldn't even ponder someone else's thoughts further than an oblique attempt at solidifying the author's philosophy. But that's not really thinking, it's just connecting the dots in one way or another; it's just getting evidence for a piece of subject.

I find it hard to think. To design thoughts, to creatively address questions, or to even embrace questions. Questions, and thoughts, just don't really come to me. But as I said, once in a while they do occur, out of nowhere, maybe when I'm brushing my hair and staring into my mirror image or when I'm stuffing myself with sweets that are supposed to make me feel full of eventfulness. They do come. And I usually write them down.

At least I still have the ability to surprise myself. But I wonder, do I have enough control to be free? Isn't that what we need for thinking?